TwentyFour
by suprockstar
Summary: There were only twenty-four hours in a day, twenty-four meetings allowed, twenty-four times she was able to lose herself in the depths of the grey oceans of his eyes. After that, there was no more. AU Seventh Year


**Title:** twenty-four  
**Author/Artist:** suprockstar  
**Rating:** PG  
**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, and it's sad.  
**Warnings:** Angst.  
**Summary:** There were only twenty-four hours in a day, twenty-four meetings allowed, twenty-four times she was able to lose herself in the depths of the grey oceans of his eyes. After that, there was no more.  
**Notes:** Written for the _'Ring in the New Year'_ dmghficexchange over at Livejournal, for Freefall2108 who was very awesome in requesting an angsty fic, because angst is seriously, all I write. :] This is very bittersweet, angsty but with fluffy moments mixed in, along with the spirit of the New Year. Thanks to my Beta **tempered_rose** for beta-ing this at _seriously_ the last second, _AU seventh year._

**Twenty-Four**

It was strange, how it had ended up like this.

The moon was high in the sky, such a bright contrast compared to the silky darkness of the night. No clouds were visible in the sky, and if she were the person she was a little over a year ago, she would've cared to think that the night sky was perfect for fireworks. But she wasn't. So the date and time significance did not mean anything to her, for the prospect of a new year less than an hour away, was the furthest thing from her mind.

Her small hands clutched the icy bar of the railing harshly, as if even a shift of the most miniscule amount would make balance impossible, and she would surely fall to her death. What a way to die, she thought solemnly, her mind wandering to the memory that pained the hearts of every student (though two in particular, their hearts were burdened in a way that no one else would understand, one with impeccable sorrow, the other with misplaced guilt) of Hogwarts in the way great grief did.

After that fateful event, no student dared to speak of how the Headmaster had perished, but rather conformed to safe subjects mourning the death of the man they had looked up to so dearly. The professors, tight lipped but mournful all the same, finally revealed that one of their own had been the murderer. Rumours of the most horrific kind clouded the corridors with lightning speed, and final images of the sickening act were made clear in the minds of every student (except two, who had seen it with their own eyes and did not need any reminders).

She clutched the biting bar tighter, her knuckles turning a pale white, the cruel ice that had formed on the railing, digging deep into her flesh. But she couldn't feel it. She could not feel the biting winds, or the bitter cold, surrounding her being, thrashing against her with no sign of mercy. It was not that she could not feel it, because of _magic_, but rather, she found that something had happened inside of her, and whatever it was, it had left her numb beyond belief. Numb physically, numb emotionally. Truthfully, she would not have it any other way. Feel every ounce of hurt, of pain, of agony course through her bones, and seep throughout her flesh, or rather, feel nothing at all? The answer was obvious, though she did not consider the almost impossible shard of happiness, that_ could_ penetrate her hollowed being. No, she did not consider it. That was what happened when all hope was gone. And well, she couldn't feel hope if she wanted to, could she now?

She knew how cynical she was acting, how childish she may have seemed to others that did not know, but in actuality, she knew that childhood had left her forever, thrust out of her body with rapid speed, never to return to her again. And well, she was smart enough to know that. She was brave enough to accept that. Brave or cowardly, whichever it was again.

She let out a weary sigh, a mist of her of her breath, made visible of the harsh, winter air surrounding it. She had forgotten how long she had stood there, leaning against the ice bitten railing of the astronomy tower. Hours, minutes? Time was a hard thing to keep up with most days. It often did funny things, lulling in unexpected drags, speeding up without notice. She had tried, oh so hard did she try, to track the invisible movement of time. But soon, she grew tired of the fickleness of it all, exhausted with the unpredictability, and finally, gave up. Had she been paying attention, she would've noticed the almost frightening pace she had been giving things up, throwing them aside, forgetting far too quickly. But really, she realized, what was the point of holding on, remembering, _trying, _when there was nothing to hold on to, nothing worth remembering, nothing that she wanted to try for.

Something had happened inside of her, she knew it, but _what was it?_

She tried to pinpoint an exact event that may have caused the crashing of her spirits, the emptying of her hopes. May it have been last year, when their headmaster succumbed to death? Or possibly, the reality that war was still raging amongst them, no matter how hard the stone walls of the castle tried to conceal the fact (trying never worked). These theories were safe, only scratching the surface that obscured the true reason, the truth of all of this. Her mind refused to penetrate what she did not want to relive, to force the memories from her being.

Since when was she such a fucking coward? Hiding from challenge, trouncing from confrontation, such a Gryffindor she was, wasn't she? Despite the numbness of her being, despite the turn her thoughts had taken, she could not help but smirk, a mirthless, lifeless one, but something, none the less. The houses of Hogwarts were a joke, a laugh of the most bitter kind. How could a school try to teach and prosper its children with the thick and candy coated idea of unity, of equality, while segregating the students into separate, distinct groups and facing them against each other? Slytherins were immediately against the Gryffindors, and well, who knew she would be one to break from the status quo?

She suddenly felt the oh, too familiar sense of pain pierce through her chest, searing throughout her body in all directions from the center of her heart.

She let out a small cry, a protest, for she was not supposed to feel _anything_, she did not _allow_ herself to feel anything! So what was this, _why was this happening?! _

Finally, she loosened the grip of her right hand from the metal bar, which she could feel now biting into her flesh in a way she had never noticed. She brought her shaking hand to her chest, pressing it into the middle, feeling the cold seep through her robes. Her breathing sped up, as the pain intensified, and she knew that she was moments away from breaking apart all together. How badly she had tried to build her self up from The Last Time, to cover her wounds from The Last Time, and she thought she had succeeded. Trying never worked out for her, did it though? No, it didn't.

_Why was this happening?!_

She asked again and again, this time desperate, pleading. She didn't know why, she didn't know how, and all she wanted was for everything to stop! She clutched at her chest even harder now, grasping the black fabric in her fists, twisting it, _begging_ for the pain to go away.

She suddenly heard footsteps, solid, hard ones, echoing from the metal staircase behind her.

She did not know if it was just a mere coincidence or was if the world truly was not in her favour, for the person she saw emerge from the darkness of the stairs, was the one cause for all her pain. All the pain she felt now, all the pain she felt then.

The surprise in his eyes was clear, even in the darkness of the night, seeing her here. They stood like that for what seemed like hours, but surely that could not have been so. Time was always a fickle, teasing thing. Their eyes pierced one another's, hers widened, filled with the pain she was currently battling against. And his, she could not tell what exactly she saw in them, but it was rather haunting, the ghosts of all he had seen, still imprisoned in the stormy grey.

All breath seemed to have left her body, as an overwhelming sensation of emotions cascaded over her being, desperate to claim every part. She felt impeccable hurt, excruciating pain, but most surprising of all, the quietness of her sadness, crept ever so slowly about her heart. For the memories of what had happened, every detail, every facet, crystal clear in her mind, as if it had happened yesterday.

She suddenly felt that she could not take anymore of this, felt her being start to crack, felt her demeanour slowly break, right in front of his eyes. Oh, his eyes. She had lost herself in them far too many times than she allowed herself to remember (_23_ _times, 23 times, 23 times)._ The memories continued to flood into her mind, flood into every crevice that was void of the torture, bury deep into any opening it found.

"_Why are we doing this?" Her voice was a soft whisper, naked of the authority she told herself to use, when posing the question that ached at her conscience without failure. _

_The night surrounded their beings, hid them with a blackened disguise, as what they were doing was utterly forbidden, thoroughly unthinkable. _

_His lips brushed against hers soundlessly, as he spoke, his voice withdrawn._

"_Does it really matter, Granger?" _

_He captured her lips with his, once again. They did no more talking after that._

_--_

It was hard to believe that that was how it all started.

Everyone had heard about what he had done last year (and what he hadn't), and so had she. She knew how everyone was treating him, how disgusted their faces were whenever he walked past them in the corridors, or in the Great Hall. How he was taking it, was impossible to decipher, his face, a hard stone, expressionless, emotionless.

"_Do you ever think about it?" She asked softly. She tilted her head to look at him, resting her hands behind her, on the cold concrete floor of the tower. _

"_Everyday." He whispered, his voice so quiet, it would've been so easily lost in the cool breeze of the night. So heavy his words were, the burden of not only the task he had to do, but now the guilt, evident in the low rumble that escaped from his throat._

_She had not expected him to answer at all, and at his words, she could feel something inside of her expand with the utter grief of everything he felt. _

"_Don't." Was all she said back. _

_His eyes lifted from the cold, concrete where they sat, and met hers. How deep he could see into them, how it seemed that if he stared long enough into them, he would be lost, never to be found again, and everything would be okay. _

_A small nod was his only reply. _

Somehow, she managed to break into the barrier he put around himself, without caring so much to doing so. And somehow he had done the same. How many nights did they just sit upon the floor of the abandoned tower, all horrors of the memories it brought back was far too much for some to handle _(23 times, 23 times, 23 times)._

She had found him there, drunk, alone, perfect. It was the first time they had ever been alone, without their respective companions. Both were lonely, both were abandoned.

"_Fancy some firewhiskey?" He slurred, his voice an unsettling rumble in his throat._

Sometimes they would talk, their voices unfamiliar to themselves in the darkness, allowing the secrets to float from their beings, without the judgement of who they were, wrapped around them.

Other times, physicality took the best of their restraint, and they just needed to touch, to feel, to _indulge._

But always, they made each other feel as if everything was just how it was again, as if they were safe, as if they belonged where they were. That nothing could penetrate their beings, nothing could ever happen to them, and for a while, infinite_. _As if anything was possible, anything was within their grasps. _Just infinite._

She took a sharp breath, as the memories finally stopped, and the pain subsiding.

"Hello there, Granger."

At the sound of his voice, every nerve ending in her body sparked to life, fully embracing the idea of his presence. It felt so unfamiliar to feel everything again, to succumb to not only pain while doing so, was something she had not experienced in a while.

The smallest of smiles appeared upon her lips, the gentle breeze rolling lazily through her curls.

She watched him walk soundlessly to where she stood, then stopped beside her, resting his forearms on the railings. He lifted his head up to the sky, gazing at the bold stars, a heavy of weight of what he had to do, burdening him once again.

She turned her body back to the dark night in front of them, lifting her head up like his, and let her eyelids fall. There was something inevitable about this moment. They each knew what was going to happen after tonight. An ending like no other, just like their beginning.

"A little cold?"

At that, her eyes fluttered open, seeing a lovely smirk upon his lips, and she could not help but let out a laugh.

"Not one bit," she said back, her tone light and teasing. "Are you?"

He turned his head to face hers, letting out a chuckle of his own. "Of course not," He replied, "you know how we Slytherins are."

She let out another soft laugh, remembering. Her memories no longer hurt.

She had always known that despite his obvious intelligence, he could not perform a warming spell. He found it rather impossible, she found it amusing beyond anything.

"_Is it because you're a Slytherin?" She joked._

"_Maybe, you know how cold-blooded we are." He replied, smirking. _

"Oh yes, the all mighty Slytherins, the greatest bullies of our time. What would we do without them?" Her smile widened, as her words floated from her mouth.

"You'd be lost, for who else would you Gryffindors snitch on?"

She continued to chuckle, shaking her head.

"You're impossible, Draco."

He smirked at this, turning around fully to rest his back on the icy railing, his elbows resting behind him. He peered at her, and he was absolutely certain about this, that she had never looked more beautiful in the moonlight, igniting a fire in his chest, for the inevitable was drawing nearer with every breath they took.

She gazed back, and quietly, in her head, she counted this moment for the twenty-forth time she had lost herself in Draco Malfoy's eyes. How she had missed them, those eyes. The kind of stormy grey that haunted her whenever she closed her own chocolate ones.

How long they stayed like that, they did not know, letting the silence float around them.

The air suddenly grew heavy, burdened with desperation, and they did not know how much longer they could avoid it. Time was cruel like that.

"Have you ever felt like you had no choices?" He whispered softly, breaking the silence, his voice carrying into the night air, drifting into the moonlight. "Your future predetermined, and that the path set out for you, is the only way to live your life, and there is nothing you can do to change it?"

She let out a small breath, as she could feel her chest ever so slightly, strain and constrict.

He had tried so hard. He thought he could do it, yes he did. He thought he could succeed, because he was him, and she was her, and it was just supposed to work out that way. But who was he kidding really. It was because of who they were that he could never succeed and it was all just a painful game that gnawed at his insides every moment he lost. How naïve he had been, how naïve he is now, for what was he doing here? It was sad, and pathetic, but he was very much sad and pathetic, and it was all he could do before throwing himself headfirst into the darkness where he did not know if he would resurface.

He had no choice. Join the Dark, or never see the prospect of light again.

He stood up straight, bringing himself his full height, and took two careful steps toward her. Their bodies were inches from touching, her lips so close to embracing.

He lowered his voice, quiet and shaky it was now. "I can't love you the way I should. But please believe me when I say this," He pleaded. "I love you with everything I have."

She could feel the stinging sensation of awaiting tears burn at her eyes, and before she knew it, they had fallen onto her cheeks.

She never knew that love was possible with him, never knew it was possible for her all together. But at that moment, as her vision blurred, and his gaze intense with feeling, she was reminded, just how much she felt for him. Just how much she loved him.

"You're making this harder you know."

She managed to choke out, a sad chuckle along with it.

"Its what I do, isn't it." He replied, flashing her the smirk that she would remember in her mind, she would never forget.

She knew what he had to do, she had always known. Wasn't it just common knowledge that little Draco Malfoy would follow in his father steps? And well, now before her, the Draco Malfoy that was not so little anymore, trudging in the hollowed shoes of the man he must replace, of the spot he was forced to fill. He had to do this, she knew. But it didn't make this any easier.

Slowly, she entered the small, but noticeable space between their yearning bodies, and captured his lips with hers. It was passionate, and hungry, and desperate in all the same ways, that they could not bear to think about. All they could do, was put all words unsaid, all feeling unexpressed, into that kiss, letting their minds drift to nothing but each other. They let their lips explore the crevices of the others, committing to memory this moment, committing each other to their hearts, to their minds. They had to do this, for they could not bear the thought of letting go, of the separation of their hearts, of their beings, of their _souls. _But finally they did, and as their lips drifted apart, her tears continued to fall, just little faster, just a little more, and his eyes troubled, burdened, hurt.

"We'll see each other again, I promise." He said to her, lifting his right hand, and placed it, oh so tenderly against her cheek, his thumb stroking her cheek, wiping away the tears. "When this war is over, you and I can live again. But before then," He placed his other hand upon her naked cheek, holding her head in his hands, holding the delicate piece of everything he wished for. "Promise me this, Granger. You're going to fight, and kill as many Death Eaters as you can, you got that?"

At that, she let out a laugh, a smile forming warmly upon her face.

"Of course. What kind of Gryffindor would I be then?" She replied, then stepped towards him, and fell into the welcome embrace of his arms.

Suddenly, loud cracks of light exploding in the sky before them, the colourful fireworks penetrating the calm bask of the moon.

"Happy New Year, Granger."

She could feel the low rumble of his voice vibrate in his chest, against her cheek, and she only brought her being closer to his, cocooning in the time they had left. She knew that this was inevitable, that this was bound to happen. For there were only twenty-four hours in a day, and after that, there was no more, but simply the starting of the next.

Twenty-four meetings allowed, twenty-four times she was able to lose herself in the depths of the grey oceans of his eyes. After that, they would have no more, after that, they would have to face the new day without each other, face the new year in the unknown, face the realm of possibilities before them.

But for this moment, time was foreign, time was forgotten. And as they stood in each others embrace, watching the fireworks mark the turning of another year, they knew that whatever the war, the world, would throw at them, time was on their side. They would meet again, the hour glass will flip over, and time would restart for the two people that formed a love so powerful, so breathtaking, it could overcome all odds, all forces, and even the prevailing passage of time.

* * *

_Freefall2108 asked for this quote: "Just because they don't love you, the way you want them to, doesn't mean they don't love you with everything they have." -Truman Capote, to be incorporated in this fic. I hope I did it well!_

_**Please review!**_


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